


“For the sake of your mental health, you shouldn’t visit the past.

by LibertyKingdom



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M, thenervetoservetheturn, to my dear friend Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertyKingdom/pseuds/LibertyKingdom
Summary: An answer to this prompt from Iwillmakemystandhere
Relationships: Jack Dawson/Rose DeWitt Bukater
Kudos: 7





	“For the sake of your mental health, you shouldn’t visit the past.

Beautiful melancholy stains Rose’s porcelain face. The memories of days past lay tinctured in soft vignette halos of white fog. If she lingered in the enchantment, Rose could feel the somewhat harsh canvas of the lifevest as it hugged her slender figure. She could feel the warmth of Jack’s fingers enclosed around her own and the way the deck felt beneath her shoes. And if she stayed there even longer she could hear the nearly crippling cries and screams of horror emerging from every which direction around them. She could even recall the groaning of metal as it is punished and ripped apart by the indigo waters. Worse still, there were moments when she could feel the same frigid water pressed against her skin.

Jack Dawson had this vivacious love of life. She had not clung to it sufficiently to have the same said of her. He was the one who should have been spared. Every day she lives with that terrible nagging regret. Rose would have easily traded away the Heart of the Ocean, for his life. Had the bargain been her’s for the making.

People offered her condolences whenever she shared his story. But it wasn’t their sympathy she wanted. Especially, not when they said, “time will heal all her wounds.” Time was cruel. It would never provide any salve to the destruction it wrought upon her soul. A part of her longed for the end so that she could be reunited with her Jack. The man she had been ready to run away with.

The empty beer bottle is twirled absently between her two hands. It is the third she has consumed since her arrival. Sometimes she felt steps away from being housed in an asylum with all the voices she heard and dead people she has seen. Her tongue shakily drifts across her lower-lip. “I don’t really know how to move on,” she quietly confides. Now, that wasn’t particularly true. She had taken Jack’s last name and had tried her hand at acting. But all the roads seemed to lead back to the pain brought about from her narrow escape from death. Azure hues begrudgingly lift to meet Inez’s.


End file.
